


I'll Never Smile Again

by moonbands



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Historic!5sos, M/M, WW2, historic AU, soldier!5sos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbands/pseuds/moonbands
Summary: Four soldiers find a song that keeps them going through the war against Hitler.
Or the fic where Ashton is a captain, Calum is a badass, Luke is indifferent, and Michael is scared.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter/gifts), [blessyouclifford on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=blessyouclifford+on+tumblr).



Luke feels a racing in his chest as he holds his sniper to his front. His eyes are trained forward, his destination the same as the other soldiers around him, knowing the stationed boat that dropped them off is long gone. He'd be lying if he didn't feel a little seasick with the smell of the soldiers' vomit filling the floor of the boat. He blocks it out. After all, he has much bigger things to worry about.

Luke hears the teeth chattering of the man sitting next to him over the splashes of the waves, and he glances towards him. He sees tufts of blonde hair sticking out the bottom of his dark green helmet, the poor man's skin glaring white against his dark clothes as if he'd never seen sunlight. The man doesn't seem with himself as he turns to Luke, and Luke watches the green eyes while his pupils dilate and grow smaller within seconds. That's when Luke notices the man's hands are shaking against his own rifle too, and it's not because he's cold. Luke reaches one hand over and grabs the man's bicep firmly, his thumb automatically rubbing against the dense jacket seemingly holding the man down to Earth.

"We're going to hit shore quickly, boys. As soon as we're in shallow water, you're to take cover immediately. We don't know who's out there, and we'll need to keep our precaution. There will be further orders later on," Captain Irwin announces, his voice only loud enough to be heard over the waves.

Luke feels another pulse of shaking underneath the hand on the man's arm. "I'm going to pass out," the man says in a whisper. Luke watches as his face grows slack, his eyelids still open as his bottom jaw drops. He's not unconscious, Luke observes, just in a state of adrenaline. The man hunches over, placing his head in between his knees, his rifle biting into his shoulder.

Luke doesn't know what to say to make this man feel better. He can't say he'll be fine because he's not sure of that. He can't say it's most likely no one will be on shore because he doesn't know that either.

"I'll never smile again," Luke starts singing softly, his hand moving to rub the man's shoulder. "Until I smile at you."

Luke hears someone join in behind him, so he turns around to see a dark man with black curls sticking from underneath his helmet. "I'll never laugh again." Luke watches as the man brings up his hand to his mouth, kissing the skin in between his thumb and pointer finger. Luke sees two letters tattooed where he kissed as he lowers his hand back down to his rifle, where the other hand has a matching set of different letters. "What good would it do?" Luke looks at the man's eyes, dark and wandering like he's lost in his own world.

"For tears would fill my eyes," Luke continues to sing, turning back to the man hunched over. His back moves as he takes a deep breath, and he uses his palms to push his torso back up to sitting position, his rifle back against his chest. "My heart would realize."

The man joins in, barely above a whisper, but Luke sees his mouth move with the color settling back into his face. "That our romance is through." The man turns to Luke, a blank expression on his face. "I'll never lo-"

"Fall out," Captain Irwin interrupts them, and it's then Luke realizes they're at the shore. 

He goes into automatic mode, his hand leaving the man by his side to help himself jump off the boat and into the water. His boots fill as he sloshes his way towards the sand, his eyes scoping the terrain for enemies. His sniper is pointed at the water, his eyes and ears alert.

Luke hears gunfire and then a buzzing sound a millisecond apart. He ducks into the water, whipping around to notice the man behind him falling on his knees into the waves, clutching his arm. He mentally notes the bullet was aimed for his head, so he turns around, aiming quickly. He sees a helmet poking out from the grass at the top of the hill, a sniper rifle aimed at him. He fires immediately, watching the helmet fall.

"You! Sniper!" He hears and turns to find Captain Irwin looking at him. He points in the direction of the barbed wire fence supposedly to keep out unwanted visitors to Germany. "Station yourself over there!" He turns to address everyone behind him. "Fall in!"

The crowd moves with Luke, scurrying over to the fence for cover. It's not much, but it will have to do. Luke positions his sniper as another shower of shots are fired followed by grunts of pain. He tunes the noises out, focusing on finding the shooters.

One by one, as the helmets appear into view, he shoots them down. He can hear Captain Irwin yelling next to him as he waits idly for more enemies. He sees his own troops storming up the hill, and pretty soon Captain Irwin is telling him to move. Luke ends up tripping over his feet, a mixture of water and sand dripping out of his boots. He gets back up and starts again.

When Luke reaches the top of the hill, the troops have already taken over the area. There were only a few stragglers of German soldiers at the top, taking chances with the high ground advantage. Unfortunately for them, Luke is an excellent sniper.

"Good work, soldier," Captain Irwin congratulates him with a pat on the back. "What's your name?"

"Luke Hemmings, sir," he answers.

"Hemmings. Keep up the good work. A few injuries on our side but no deaths." Luke nods and the captain dismisses him.

Luke turns and looks around, his eyes training on the familiar build of the sick man on the boat. He's standing upright, his rifle held at an angle across his chest, pointed to the sky. He doesn't seem harmed or even bothered at all.

Luke makes his way over to the man, tripping as he steps onto uneven ground, but he catches himself. He steps up beside the man, looking where he's looking.

"World's best sniper can't walk straight. Ironic." The man talking turns around as the last prisoner of war passes him by, the prisoners arms high above his head and his face blank. Luke recognizes the soldier talking as the one who started singing with him on the boat. "I'm Calum Hood. You can call me Hood."

"Luke Hemmings. I prefer Luke." Luke reaches out to take Hood's extended hand and shake it.

"Nice to meet you. Who's your friend?" Hood glances over at the man next to Luke that hasn't said anything yet.

"Michael Clifford. Although you won't be needing to know that for long," he sighs. Luke looks at Hood, sharing a wide-eyed gaze.

"Why's that?" Luke asks, watching Michael's expression turn grim.

"I'm not the best soldier . . ." he says as an explanation. Luke understands him though.

"Sometimes the worst soldiers are the last ones to die," he thoughtfully points out. Michael finally turns to look at him in the eye, his face a mix of confusion and a bit of relief. He doesn't ask anything.

"That song we were singing earlier," Hood mentions. "Was that Sinatra?"

"Yeah," Luke answers softly. A blush climbs to his face. "He's my favorite singer. I know the song is a few years old but it's been my favorite for a while."

"You have a nice voice," Michael praises him. Luke notices Michael's eyes lower down his face and back up, turning brighter the longer Luke holds his eye contact.

"Thank you," Luke coughs out, his face growing redder.

"I agree," Hood speaks. He pats Luke on the back. "It's also nice to hear something so calming nowadays. I forgot music existed after spending all that time in training. Really works the humanity out of ya."

And Luke thinks about that. Thinks about how easy it is for him to shoot a rifle at a living human being. Thinks how he has detached from the rest of his squad the few months he's been working up to this point. He can't say Hood is wrong.

"I was drafted," Michael spits out. He looks at the dirt beneath their feet with a hatred.

"But they only drafted a few hundred," Hood argues confusedly. Michael looks up at him and nods curtly. Hood's face grows grim, and Michael turns away, watching the troops set up for a night near the beach. Their first night in action.

"I signed up because my two older brothers did. Figured my parents wouldn't be as proud of me if I didn't," Luke chips in. He can't stop his heart from racing as he admits these words. It's not something a man should admit so willingly.

"I signed up to fight," Hood deadpans. "Fuck Hitler and all the fucking Nazis." He waves two fingers in the air as he says "all."

"That's what I like to hear," comes a voice from behind them. They turn around to find Captain Irwin walking up to them, his rifle strung over his shoulder with the strap against his chest. "Fuck Hitler."

All three men nod at the captain, standing up a little straighter. "At ease, men. Just came over to ask you something." He looks each of them in the eye before leaning in, speaking in a hushed tone. "Would you three come to my tent tonight? I've been having trouble sleeping, and your voices work well together. It's been a while since I last heard music, and that's what usually sends me to sleep."

Luke's cheeks grow red again, and he has to look at the other two men to see their reactions. Michael looks slightly inconvenienced, and Hood looks as emotionless as ever. He turns back to Captain who has a vulnerable yet hopeful look on his face. "I'll do it," he answers softly.

"Me too," Hood jumps in. They all turn to Michael, who sighs while avoiding their gazes.

"I guess."

"Great!" the captain swiftly returns to his authoritative self. "Come find me after supper. We'll meet at the beach."

Captain Irwin pivots and walks away, his thumbs finding the belt loops of his pants.

 

It wasn't long before the four men found each other again, a fire started by the captain a few feet away from the tent at the edge of the beach, next to the barbed wire fence. There were drops of blood dried into the sand from the previous incident, but they all figured they better get used to it. The captain had a few of the other soldiers sharing a tent with him, but they seemed rather disinterested as the four sat around the fire.

"What should we sing?" Hood asks, his eyes deep brown pools flashing the orange fire in the dark of night.

"How about that song from earlier?" the captain suggests. He leans back on his knapsack, closing his eyes as he gets comfortable. The three other men confirm with each other, and Luke vocally finds a pitch.

"I'll never smile again until I smile at you," he starts, the waves of the ocean giving a sort of background noise. He watches as the other two join in. "I'll never laugh again. What good would it do?"

"For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize that our romance is through." Luke notices a few soldiers turning their heads towards the singers and another few trickling out of the tent to see them singing.

Luke is surprised when he hears a harmony to the next part. "I'll never love again." Hood sings a third higher than Luke, changing the key. Michael joins in on a lower note, his voice wavering but still nice. "I'm so in love with you."

"I'll never thrill again to somebody new." Luke notices the tiny slivers of Captain Irwin's eyes reflecting the firelight; he's watching them. "Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again."

Luke looks to Michael, who is already looking at him. He gives a small smile as he sings the next part. "Until I smile at you."

_"Within my heart,_  
_I know I will never start_  
_To smile again_  
_Until I smile at you,_  
_Until I smile at you."_

When the three men stop singing, a few soldiers start applauding them. They smile and laugh, and Luke realizes this is the first time since he's left home that he's done so.

 

Luke wakes up to a loud sniffling sound next to him. He moves around to look at the man, noticing it's Michael. Even though it's dark in their tent, Luke can still see the outline of Michael's shoulders shaking, and more sniffling comes from him. Luke doesn't bother helping Michael. It's a common occurrence for soldiers to cry at night, and most of the time they don't want anyone's reassurance. Luke has been there. Especially at the beginning of training.

He turns back over, closing his eyes to get more sleep. But then he notices a different form of breathing besides the sniffling. Michael is taking in deep breaths and not letting a lot of air out. Luke can hear the struggle in his breathing, so he flips back over and touches Michael's arm with his fingertips before grabbing his bicep carefully.

Michael turns to him, a panicked look in his eyes, but it's not because he's been caught. Luke has seen this in himself before, so he gets out of his sleeping bag and helps Michael up, guiding him out of the tent.

"Talk to me," he demands. Michael breaths out heavily.

"I-" he goes, but then he breathes in again. "I'm, uh," and Luke watches as Michael drifts into his own mind again.

"Give me a number," Luke tries.

"Five."

"Name five things that start with the letter M." Luke rubs Michael's shoulder as the man looks up to the sky as if God will give him the answers.

"Marriage," Michael starts. He squeezes his eyes shut like he's in pain, but Luke knows all too well that he's trying to think of something else.

"Meatballs."

"Mysteries."

"Men," he looks at Luke, the worry lines on his forehead melting away.

"Mail." Michael's face grows in calmness. He lets out a shaky deep breath that Luke can feel against his face.

"What's your middle name?" Luke asks, looking away from Michael.

"Gordon," Michael answers easily, his biceps twitching underneath Luke's hand.

"Michael Gordon Clifford. Nice," Luke comments before dropping his hand, his eyes grazing over the sea. He can see Michael turning to watch the waves with him out of the corner of his eye, and it grows silent except for the sound of water crashing to shore.

It's probably five minutes or so before Michael speaks up. "Was that last question supposed to help me?"

Luke glances at him and chuckles. "Nope. I was curious."

Michael huffs but then gently bumps Luke's elbow with his own. "Sit with me."

And so they sit, the stars barely covered by the navy blue clouds, the moon lighting up the waves and the sea foam bubbling a few yards away from their feet. And so they stay, Michael's breathing calmed and shallow, Luke's eyes drooping for a second time that night, grains of sand sticking to the bottom of his socks. And so they wake up as the sun gleams through their eyelids, birds chirping and a few early rising soldiers snickering at them.

 

Luke wanders through the bodies, picking up ammo and stuffing it into his pocket or stringing it around his neck. He checks each body for letters to families or lovers, and the ones he does find, most of them are doused in blood. His fingers stain red after digging through bodies for a while, and beads of sweat are forming on the edges of his face. He decides that's enough for today.

He hands out the ammo he's found but saves a bit of it for himself. He makes his way over to the medical tent where injured soldiers are lying around, medics distributing cigarettes and healthy soldiers helping wrap and put pressure on excessively bleeding wounds. That's where Luke finds Hood, his boots on the ground next to him and a lit cigarette between his teeth. One of his feet is curved at a weird angle, his toes crooked and not where they're supposed to be.

"Hood," Luke greets. Hood squints up at him, taking in a deep drag.

"Luke," he replies as he blows the smoke out. "I see the clumsy sniper is still alive."

"What happened to your foot?" Luke asks, shuffling out of the way of a medic.

Calum looks down at his feet as if he just noticed they were bare. "Ah, some Russian ran up to me--real ass, didn't even shoot--and struck the butt of his rifle into my foot. Should've heard the crack. It was probably as loud as a gunshot in my opinion. Shot him dead, though, as soon as I pushed him off me."

"You know we're in Germany, right? It was probably a German that broke your foot," Luke points out. 

Calum blows a puff of smoke out, kicking Luke's leg with his uninjured foot. "Correct me again, and I'll break your foot too." He looks out to the soldiers marching by, their eyes unfocused. "Don't matter where we are or who we're fighting. All that matters is getting out of here alive and the war won." He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, his eyes closing as he lays back. He lets out his steady stream of smoke which wisps into the air like puffy white clouds.

"Luke?" Luke hears from behind him. He turns around and is met with Michael staring at him curiously. Michael's face lights up when his eyes meet Luke's.

"Michael!" Luke says excitedly. Michael takes a step forward, and Luke pulls him in for a short hug. Luke has to admit he feels a little relief that these two men are perfectly fine after another battle.

"Hood," Michael nods to Hood.

"Looks like the Sinatra trio is back together," Captain Irwin jokes as he walks up to the three of them.

"Oi, Cap. We're not some singing trio just 'cause we sang you one Sinatra song," Hood argues, a smirk on his face. Luke glares at him. Captain Irwin rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing onto his lips.

 

Luke rushes to find cover, his jacket torn from a grazing of a bullet. His hair is matted down underneath his helmet from sweat, and his face is covered in dirt from falling face first into the ground. He thinks he might have broke his nose, but he can't worry about that now.

He hides behind the rubble of a building, poking his gun out to prepare him to shoot. He presses his eye to his scope, his vision enhanced to find the enemies. He gazes over the rubble, shooting shot after shot into snipers to eliminate too much danger for his fellow soldiers.

"Sniper," Luke barely hears over gunshots even thought the person who said the word is right next to him. He finds Hood looking at him, and then a look of recognition takes over Hood's face. "Should've known it was you. You're a good aim."

Luke turns away from Hood, considering him a distraction from his task. He's about to shoot another man before someone pats on the arm opposite of Hood's side. He whips his head, ready to yell at the person, before he realizes it's Michael. Luke feels another sense of relief overcome him. He had gone into this battle with Michael by his side but had somehow lost him along the way.

"I didn't want to know your name!" Michael yells at him to be heard over the screaming and explosives. The loud noises stop as the other side looks for soldiers. "I didn't want to grow too attached to anyone," he says quieter, an intimate whisper with how close he is to Luke's ear.

"I'm glad you know my name" Luke replies. His eyes meet Michael's, and he has to cough to stop making himself feel so vulnerable. He's a soldier, he was trained to avoid emotional situations. He was trained to focus on the task at hand.

Luke sets up his rifle again, pressing his eye back to the scope. He shoots another German soldier before Michael pats his arm again. "Captain Irwin needs me to go forward," Michael explains his interruption. "I don't know if I'll find you again."

Luke looks at Michael, something upset taking over his chest. "You have to. You will. I'll find you," Luke promises. Michael looks at him, and Luke doesn't recognize the appearance as Michael. This Michael has given up. He's accepted his fate. Luke knows Michael feels different. "You can't go," Luke pleads him.

Michael doesn't say anything. He reaches up one hand, tugging on the front of Luke's jacket and pulling him forward. It's all so fast as he watches Michael close his eyes and then feels Michael's lips on his. The kiss is to fast to register, too, and the feeling in Luke's chest is hard to determine.

Before Luke understands, Michael is climbing over the rubble, his rifle at attention. He scurries off, and Luke sits there stunned before Hood is grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him out from behind the rubble and after Michael.

Luke is back in automatic mode except this time the war isn't on his mind, Michael is. He keeps his eyes locked on Michael, noting every step and direction he takes. Luke trips over a small ditch, crashing into Hood, and the two of them topple over right as bullets fly over their heads.

Luke notices too late the sniper at the top of a crumbled building. Luke can't even reach his rifle before Michael is down on the ground, motionless. And time slows. Luke can feel the rush and surge of adrenaline thrumming through the battle, but it's all muted. He only watches as the person behind Michael steps over him, the soldier being the one able to get to cover fast enough.

It's only when Hood scrambles up and charges toward the crumbled building that he regains his senses and whereabouts. He can hear Calum's heavy footsteps match up with his own as Luke sprints to Michael.

"Michael?" Luke asks, falling to his feet next to his fellow soldier. He pushes at Michael, expecting him to move. "Michael!" he yells, rolling him over. Michael's face is scraped and red from the fall, and his eyelids are half open. And Luke doesn't know when tears started streaming down his face, doesn't know if he's cried in a battle yet.

Luke can hear Hood's angry yell and the sound of a gunshot. Soldiers rush past Luke towards the German side, and pretty soon he's one of the few still alive this far away from his troop. Calum sits on his knees next to him. He puts a hand on Luke's back as a sense of condolence.

Luke turns away as Calum closes Michael's eyes the rest of the way. He hears the sound of Calum ripping off his dog tag and the crinkle of paper that Luke knows is the letter to Michael's family. Calum hands the blood-splotched letter to Luke who puts it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

Luke looks back at Michael, and his chest hurts when he sees that Michael just looks like he's sleeping. "He didn't deserve this," he whimpers out, a new wave of tears falling down his cheeks.

"He was right," Calum acknowledges quietly. He's referring to Michael insinuating he was going to die soon. "But he was wrong too. I'm glad we know his name. We may not know where he's from or what his life is like outside of war, but we know he was a good man here. I'm glad we met him." And Luke can't help but agree.

 

"I'll never smile again," Luke sings softly, looking out the window of the cab that's taking him home. "Until I smile at you."

As the tall grass clears to the dirt road leading to his house, he feels his happy mood fading. He continues singing what once was his favorite song, "I'll never laugh again."

And as he sees his family running out of his house to meet him, he has to wipe away the stray tears. "What good would it do?"

**Author's Note:**

> I'd ABSOLUTELY like to know what you think! This is the first time I've written something like this.


End file.
